


(please do.)

by softly (alexenglish)



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: BDSM, Collars, Dom Niall, Dom/sub, Face-Sitting, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Sub Zayn, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 07:17:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13185060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexenglish/pseuds/softly
Summary: Roses are red, Violets are blue, You can do whatever you want to me.





	(please do.)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tintedglasses](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tintedglasses/gifts).



> [a softer world project](http://queerlyalex.tumblr.com/asofterworld)

 

The second the door shuts behind them, there’s a hand on the back of Zayn’s neck, warm and firm. Zayn’s spine melts reflexively, biting back on a grin, even though he knows -- if _anything_ \-- he’s probably in trouble. Just a little.

Niall gives the back of Zayn’s neck a short squeeze. “Did y’ have a good time?” he asks curiously, voice deceptively light. Zayn can feel Niall’s presence. Like his energy is an unobtrusive, but commanding weight behind Zayn -- just out of sight.

“Yeah, it was good,” Zayn answers honestly, staying still for Niall. Waiting.

“Did y’ forget we were doing a scene tonight?” Niall asks. Zayn senses him shift, a little closer but not too close.

Zayn’s quiet for a moment. He could say yes. He did forget the first time, when he corrected his drink order after Niall gave it. Louis was at his side, distracting him enough for it to slip his mind. But he caught the look on Niall’s face, the veiled disapproval, and remembered instantly.

A bolt of shame went through him reflexively, then something else, something more insolent.

He could say yes. That would probably get him off the hook with Niall, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to know what Niall will do.

“No,” he admits, when Niall prompts him with another firm squeeze.

“ _Didn’t_ forget?” Niall asks carefully, patiently.

Zayn licks his lips, anticipation racing up his spine, settling with a tingle right under Niall’s hot palm. “No, sir.”

Niall hums softly. “Did y’ still wanna?”

Zayn nods. There’s a another squeeze, harder this time. Zayn’s eyes flutter shut. He can feel his pulse in every individual press of Niall’s fingertips.

“Yes, sir.”

“Even though you’re in trouble?” Niall asks curiously.

Zayn hasn’t ever really been in trouble before. “Sure,” he breathes, trying not to give away how much he’s anticipating this.

“Are y’ determined to make it worse, love?” Niall chuckles. His voice is low and rough, the way it gets when they do this. Zayn goes hot all over, just hearing it.

“No, sir.”

“We’ll ignore that then,” Niall says. He releases his hold on Zayn’s neck. The skin underneath is still tingling. Niall presses forward against his back, and Zayn stays still until he feels a soft kiss where Niall’s palm was. He barely manages not to moan at the contact, knees wobbling.

There’s another kiss, Niall hands grabbing onto Zayn’s jacket for leverage. They sway as Niall scrapes his teeth over the same spot. Zayn exhales heavily, trying to hold still until Niall decides what he wants Zayn to do.

He stays quiet when Niall slips his hands under Zayn’s shirt, grabbing at his hips a little roughly, teeth digging into the back of Zayn’s neck. Warmth settles heavily at the bottom of Zayn’s stomach, making him ache as Niall’s fingers trail up Zayn’s side. It tickles, but Zayn doesn’t squirm.

“Remind me what we were gunna do tonight,” Niall says, sliding his hands down the flat of Zayn’s stomach. One goes to his waistband, the other stretches wide over the bottom of his stomach, large and warm and anchoring.

Zayn has to take a moment to find his voice, already lost in how obedient he wants to be. “You were gunna fuck me.”

“I was,” Niall agrees. He sighs. “I was going to tease you until you begged for me cock, and then I going to fuck you so hard you’d barely be able t’ walk tomorrow.”

Zayn squeezes his eyes shut.

“We’re not going to do that anymore, are we?” Niall asks softly.

He doesn’t sound upset, doesn’t say it meanly. It’s just a fact. They’re not going to do that anymore. Through the haze, Zayn’s acutely aware of how empty he feels now that Niall’s mentioned it.

“No, sir.”

“Do y’wanna know what we’re going to do?” Niall asks.

“Yes, sir,” Zayn says, throat dry.

Niall steps away, stops touching Zayn, and comes around to Zayn’s front. His fingers nudge under Zayn’s chin so Zayn will meet his eyes. They’re gentle and sweet, even though Zayn’s in trouble.

“I’m going to tell y’ what to do and you’re going to do it,” Niall says, blue eyes sleepy and amused as he holds Zayn’s gaze. “You’re going to listen to everything I say without arguing, since y’ couldn’t manage that earlier.”

“Yes, sir,” Zayn says, swallowing thickly. He can barely stand to keep eye contact. He always feels scraped raw like this, too vulnerable.

“You’re going to listen,” Niall repeats, rubbing his thumb over the edge of Zayn’s jaw before scratching his fingertips through Zayn’s beard with a small smile. “You’re not going to touch, and you’re not going to come.”

Zayn stares at him, trying not to let any kind of displeasure show on his face. Of course there has to be some sort of punishment, but Zayn didn’t think too hard about what it might be. He’s never gotten Niall off and not been able to come before.

Niall must sense his hesitation. “Do you think you can do that?”

“Yeah,” Zayn says, wetting his lips again. He’s not entire sure, but he really wants to. He wanted to see what Niall’s punishment for him would be, it’d be disappointing if he couldn’t follow through. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Niall grins, wide and pleased. Zayn’s stomach flips. Niall presses a quick kiss to Zayn’s mouth, too quick for him to even kiss back. “Bedroom, strip. Collar and cuffs -- wait on your knees, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Zayn says, waiting until Niall steps away to do as he’s told.

He goes to the bedroom, sharpening up a bit as he walks. A vaguely queasy feeling settles over him, something like shame for putting Niall in this position. It sneaks up on him as he gets to the bedroom, stripping out of his clothes and dropping them in the hamper.

There’s a prickling at the back of his neck even though he knows Niall isn’t going to be following him anytime soon. ‘Wait for me’ could be anywhere from 10 minutes to 45 minutes, or upwards, depending on what Niall’s doing in the meantime, and it definitely means he’s not following Zayn in.

The awareness is still there as Zayn stands in the middle of the bedroom naked, though. It makes him feel edgy, wanting it to be over with, wanting Niall to take his time.

Zayn gets the cuffs and collar out of their top drawer, skin buzzing where he knows the weight of them will rest. Right under his adam’s apple. At the thinnest points of his wrist.

The cuffs are thick, weight pleasant against his skin as he fastens them. He loves these ones. Inconspicuous enough to wear out in public. A little secret that the whole world can see. The collar is simple, black leather with a D-ring in the front for Niall to hook a lead into, tug Zayn around.

Having them on makes Zayn sink deeper into the haze. The kind of deep where his vision goes soft around the edges, where his skin starts to buzz and tingle, where all he can think about is Niall.

He kneels by the bed with his hands clasped behind his back and waits.

 

 

There’s no telling how much time passes, but Niall comes in eventually. The room is so quiet. The door is so loud when it shuts. Zayn picks his head up, registering the ache in his shoulders and knees, the back of his neck from looking at the carpet. His dick is heavy between his legs, he’ll probably be hard as soon as Niall touches him.

Zayn blinks up at Niall as he comes closer. The scent of their body wash surrounds him as he dries off his hair. He tosses the towel towards the hamper before he reaches Zayn. Zayn meets his eyes, willing himself to keep still even though he’s becoming more and more aware that it’s been a really long time since he’s moved.

Niall doesn’t say anything, but the look on his face is gentle and approving as he crouches down in front of Zayn. Zayn lets his gaze drop to Niall’s wide shoulders, his hairy chest, the taper of his waist, and the sweet little fold of his stomach. His thick dick is half hard. Zayn wants to bite his thighs.

Niall hooks two fingers into the D-ring of Zayn’s collar and tugs once before he starts to straighten. Zayn follows, rising to his feet slowly, keeping his eyes on Niall. It’s easy to ignore the dull throb of his muscles and the unpleasant static of his circulation returning when Niall’s watching him with a smile.

When they’re both stood up, Niall gives another tug and tilts his head up expectantly. Zayn leans in to kiss him, licking into his mouth when Niall’s jaw goes soft for him. He wants to cup Niall’s face, bring him in closer, kiss him until they both can’t breathe, but he keeps his hands to himself. He wants to be good.

“Y’alright?” Niall asks.

It takes a minute to register the words, Zayn’s head is entirely elsewhere. He can’t really find his voice, so he nods.

“Good,” Niall says. Fingers still hooked in the D-ring, he steers Zayn over to the bed and gestures with his chin.

Zayn sits.

“It’s gunna be easy today,” he says, voice low and soothing. He runs his hands through Zayn’s hair, nails scratching over Zayn’s scalp. He traces the shell of Zayn’s ear, his jaw. “I’m going to ride your face and then ride your dick. Once I come, we’ll be done. That okay?”

Zayn nods.

“Remember the rules?” Niall asks, meeting Zayn’s eyes. When Zayn nods, he shakes his head. “Tell me.”

“No touching,” Zayn says, voice scraping out of his throat. He swallows roughly. “No coming.”

“Good boy,” Niall says. A hot shiver works its way down Zayn’s spine at the words. “Let me know if you think you’re gunna come. I don’t want to make this harder than it needs to be, okay petal?”

Zayn nods.

“I’m going to tie you up so you’re not tempted to touch,” Niall tells him quietly, tapping the outside of Zayn’s thigh twice.

Zayn obediently scoots back to the top of the bed, lying on his back, watching Niall. He can’t stop watching Niall. Watching the way he moves, the way his torso stretches as he leans over to grab one of the ever-present leads that are tied to the bed and hooks them into Zayn’s cuffs. He can’t take his eyes off Niall’s cock, thick and long and fully hard.

Zayn’s whole body aches wistfully. He was supposed to get that cock inside of him tonight. Niall was going to play with his hole until he was loose enough to squeeze Niall’s prick into him, fuck him senseless. He was going to be all stretched out around Niall, feel Niall’s cock clear up into his stomach.

All he’d have to do was _take it_. It was going to be so fucking good.

Now he has to wait.

He’s not the only one who missed out on that, though. Niall wanted it too, and now it’s something different -- still good, but not what he _wanted_. Zayn has to make sure he's perfect for Niall.

A hot _need_ lodges itself in Zayn’s chest. He can’t wait until Niall’s on his face. Until he can make Niall feel good.

The ache in Zayn’s shoulders is renewed, sharper, as Niall tightens the strap further than they usually go. His heart kicks up as he meets Niall’s eyes.

“Do y’think you can handle that?” Niall asks, fingers trailing the inside of Zayn’s arm, giving one of his cuffs a sharp tug.

Zayn’s a little lost in the throb of his muscles, the circulation redirecting itself. It’s not entirely comfortable, but it isn’t bad, it isn’t enough for Zayn to back out of his punishment.

“I can handle it,” Zayn manages, most of his mind thinking about how he’s going to feel this in his shoulders to tomorrow. Belatedly, “Sir.”

“Good,” Niall says, he gives both sides one more small tug. “That’s for ignoring me.”

Zayn frowns. “I didn’t --”

Niall interrupts him with a _shush_. “Louis was distractin’ you all night,” Niall says, matter-of-factly. “Usually it doesn’t bother me, but on scene days, you’re _mine_. Start to finish. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Zayn swallows heavily. The declaration sparks a feeling of satisfaction in him, but it doesn’t do much to soothe the shame of making Niall feel ignored. He didn’t mean for that to happen. He didn’t want that --

“Don’t overthink it,” Niall says, watching his face. Zayn flushes so hard he can feel his whole face go hot. He always forgets how well Niall can read him, especially like this. “That’s why we’re here. I’m remindin’ you.”

Niall straddles Zayn’s chest, skinny thighs pressing into his sides. He fists his cock, pulling his foreskin down, showing Zayn the fat head. Zayn’s mouth floods with spit as he watches a bead of precome dribble out.

“You’re mine,” Niall repeats, hissing softly. Zayn meets his eyes, back of his neck prickling with how dark and serious they are. “Days we’re going to scene, you’re mine. You wanted to, right?”

Niall pauses. Zayn nods.

“I picked your outfit, I drove us to the bar,” Niall goes on, voice low. “I ordered drinks for you. That’s what we do, right?”

He can feel Niall’s knuckles brushing his stomach, knows he’s still wanking himself off, but he doesn’t dare break eye contact. Niall’s started to go under as well, pink cheeks and bright eyes, full immersion.

Niall’s waiting. Zayn nods.

“I was waitin’ for you to pay attention to me, but y’ never did.” Niall reaches out and hooks his fingers in the D-ring of Zayn’s collar, forcing Zayn’s head up, keeping steady eye contact. “Now _all_ you’re going to do is pay attention to me, understand?”

Zayn nods. Niall leans in and presses a kiss to his lips, making Zayn’s stomach tangle hotly.

“Color?”

“Green,” Zayn says, quiet and breathy. Niall smiles and pats his cheek sharply. Zayn’s dick jumps and leaks against his hip.

Niall doesn’t waste time. He cups his dick and gets a knee on either side of Zayn’s, arranging himself with a hand on the headboard. Zayn barely registers the movement, he’s too aware of his tongue, the fact that he’s going to use it, the fact that he has to make Niall feel good.

He wishes he could make Niall come on his tongue, he wishes he could make it that good.

Zayn feels Niall shift so he tilts his chin back, feels the graze of Niall’s knuckles as he holds himself open, and Zayn licks out, too impatient to wait. Niall groans and says, “Make me feel good, petal.”

Zayn does as he’s told.

He focuses on the ache between his shoulders so that he doesn’t think about his tongue, or his jaw, or the way they start to hurt after just a little while. He focuses on Niall’s skin, the tight clench of his hole, the way it flutters under Zayn’s tongue.

He focuses on Niall’s hand tangled in his hair, completely oblivious to when it got there, the way Niall twists hard when Zayn does something right. He focuses on the noises Niall’s making, the breathy sounds, the “fuck yeah” he grunts out when Zayn scrapes his beard over Niall’s arse cheek before fucking his tongue inside.

Zayn focuses on the little stutters of Niall’s hips, the way he grinds down on Zayn’s face slowly. Perfectly aware of how much is too much, when to back off. Zayn spaces out on it, hands curling into the leads keeping his hands up, feels them rubbing his fingers raw.

There’s too much sensation. Not enough. He barely feels like a person. Just the hot sharpness of overworked muscles and the nearly unbearable ache between his legs from how hard he is. The driving urge to satisfy Niall completely.

Zayn can’t keep himself from squirming, planting his feet and arching his back, tilting his head differently to hear what noises Niall will make at a new angle. Zayn hopes the skin between Niall legs is scraped raw after this so he can press smug kisses to his arse cheeks and hear him hiss.

Niall’s thighs are trembling around Zayn’s head. He knows it’ll be over soon, so he works his tongue faster, harder, draws a few long groans out of Niall. Gets Niall to pull his hair at the same time, grind his hips down onto Zayn’s chin --

“Fuck.” Niall lifts off with a groan. Zayn can hear the headboard creak as he grabs onto it, the way he’s panting, hard and harsh. “Fuck Zayn.”

Zayn mouth is numb, buzzing. He has no idea what to focus on. His whole body is aching. Dull pain from being tied up, from not getting to come, from using his neck and jaw and tongue on Niall.

It takes a moment, but Niall wiggles down his body and straddles his chest again. He can feel the spit between Niall’s legs, the weight of his bollocks, the hot line of his cock. None of that matters when Niall grabs him and kisses him, biting his lips and licking into his mouth. It’s messy and desperate, and Zayn can’t keep himself from whimpering over and over as Niall’s hands hold his face, slide to his hair, run down his chest.

Niall backs up, arse hitting Zayn’s cock and Zayn’s hip lift clear off the bed, low groan tearing from his throat. Every nerve in his body lights up.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he cries. It barely sounds like his voice.

“Are you going to be able to do this?” Niall asks. He’s still panting, watching Zayn with bright eyes. He’s just as fucked as Zayn is. Zayn loves it when Niall goes deep, loves feeling like they’re feeling the same thing just from the opposite ends of it. Zayn loves this so much. Loves Niall so much.

“Yes, sir,” Zayn says. It tears out of him desperately. He needs Niall to know he can do this. He wants to do this. “I won’t come.”

Niall grins at him. It isn’t full of glee, it’s something sharper, more smug, eyes dark as he watches Zayn. He seems to believe Zayn.

Niall scoots back, spit-soaked hole sliding over the line of Zayn’s cock. Zayn screws his eyes shut and moans, back of his head digging into the mattress.

“Watch me,” Niall orders, voice firm. Zayn obeys, tilting his head down. There’s lube in Niall’s hand. Zayn doesn’t know when he got that. “I’d let you do this, but you’re not allowed to touch.”

Zayn groans wistfully. He loves opening Niall up. He loves feeling Niall clench around him. He loves the slick, messy, raunchy slide of his fingers inside Niall, driving him mad.

He watches obediently as Niall opens himself up. It’s perfunctory, a means to an end. The exact opposite of what Zayn would do for Niall. He doesn’t say anything though, just watches the twist of Niall’s forearm as he fucks his fingers into himself.

“Don’t need much, do I?” Niall says, teasingly, as he preps himself. “Not like tryin’a get on me cock, is it? Four fingers opening you up, getting you ready. S’a lot easier this way.”

It’s true. Niall doesn’t need much prep for Zayn’s cock in comparison. Zayn’s cock is smaller and thinner, but _everyone’s_ cock is smaller and thinner than Niall’s. That’s just how it is.

“You’re thinkin’ about it, aren’t y’?” Niall chuckles, bouncing his eyebrows. His cock stands out proudly as he arches at the small of his back. “Could’a had me tonight. I was gunna fuck you so good, y’ weren’t going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

Zayn flushes, aches, _wants_ so badly his teeth clench.

“Now you don’t even get to come,” Niall says, biting his bottom lip. He looks sorry for it, but Zayn knows there’s a part of him that likes this -- likes seeing how far Zayn will go, how much he’ll do to be good for Niall.

There’s a cold hand around Zayn’s cock and his whole head goes fuzzy with static as Niall slicks him up. He doesn’t waste time, doesn’t tease Zayn. He sinks down on Zayn’s cock, plants his knees, and starts moving.

Zayn watches, jaw clenching against the need to come. There’s nothing else he can do. He watches the line of Niall’s body as he throws his head back and rides Zayn, hips moving with purpose. He watches Niall’s heavy cock slap against his belly until Niall wraps a hand around himself and starts to wank, lube making the slide that much easier.

It’s nearly too much. Niall feels too good. Hot and tight and silky around him, working Zayn _so perfectly_ chasing his own orgasm.

Zayn’s vision is still hazy, but there’s all these details Zayn’s missed since he’s been so fucking out of it, and Zayn focuses on those, ignores the throbbing need to come. Focuses on the redness of Niall’s face and neck and chest, all the way down to his belly button, red again at his swollen prick. The sweat glistening on his neck and hairline, all worked up from riding Zayn’s face. Focuses on his bottom lip, plump from being bit at. Niall digs his teeth in now, eyes fluttering as he catches Zayn’s gaze on him.

Zayn can barely stand it, he feels like he’s going to combust, but he holds on. He looks down, watches Niall’s knuckles as he wanks himself off. The hypnotic clutch of the muscles in his hand until Niall grunts and sighs and comes all over Zayn stomach.

Zayn whimpers as Niall clenches around him, grinds down to finish. He’s so fucking close he feels like he might cry, but Niall’s up and off him in a moment, and it passes. He’s still hard, it still _aches_ , but he’s not about to nut all over.

He’s thankful for it. Especially when Niall grins at him wickedly and drags his soft, pink tongue through the come on Zayn’s chest and leans in to kiss Zayn. Zayn moans around the kiss -- the sensation of Niall’s slick tongue, the bitterness of his come, the way Niall bites at his mouth harshly before pulling away.

Zayn’s mouth is still numb, tastes like Niall in every way imaginable.

The look on Niall’s face is something Zayn hasn’t seen before. It makes him shiver, makes him feel exposed, makes him want to show his neck and let Niall dig his teeth in like a wolf.

“Good boy,” Niall says, and Zayn’s eyes flutter shut, satisfied.

 

 

There’s lips and teeth at the curve of Zayn’s shoulder, waking him up. It’s late enough to be early, room grey like it is before dawn. Niall’s pressed against Zayn’s back, dick thick and hot at small of Zayn’s back, grinding into him.

The night before comes back slowly. He’s achingly hard, but it barely registers compared to how sore his shoulders and arms are. It’s bone deep, throbbing, and it feels so good.

Almost as good as Niall behind him, kissing his skin, one hand around his cock and the other hand around his neck, resting there lightly like he knows Zayn needs a point to anchor him. Like he knows Zayn’s still ready to fly apart, even though the scene is long over.

“You did so well last night,” Niall says, pushing his hips forward as Zayn rolls his back. They’re moving together best they can on their sides, grinding against each other. Zayn’s pinned between Niall's hand and his cock. It's perfect. “You were so fucking good. That was fucking amazing.”

“Yeah, it was,” Zayn says. It was a good scene, but -- “Still feel like shit, kinda. M’sorry.”

Niall keeps wanking him, laughs against Zayn’s skin. “You know how I get with like, expectations. Thank you, though.” He bites Zayn’s shoulder, a sharp nip that makes Zayn yelp. “Hopefully it won’t happen again.”

Zayn groans and arches into Niall’s fist. “Not anytime soon,” he grunts. Niall laughs again, speeds up. “Hate that orgasm denial shit.”

Zayn can feel Niall’s smile as his lips brush the curve of Zayn’s ear. He presses a kiss to Zayn’s pulse and Zayn shivers as he says, “You can come now.”

Zayn does as he’s told.

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr](http://queerlyalex.tumblr.com/post/169054234247/please-do-zaynniall-4k)


End file.
